paintingpoppy

A Glimpse

Posted on September 11, 2019

Grief.

Sharp pain, almost crippling.

Waves.

Emptiness.

Ouch.

Here’s what I saw. Here’s what it looked like.

I’ve seen lots of paintings and artworks about grief, but I’ve yet to come across any that show it from the perspective of the grieving person – what their world looks like, what they see, a glimpse of grief through their eyes. So I began painting the clothing that he left behind.

Shortly after his death, I put all of his clothes only into the bedroom closet and closed the door – shirts stretched from his muscles, his favorite shoes worn and conformed to his feet, a long sleeved shirt with holes from when he was welding something, a leather jacket with a cigarette butt still in the pocket…I used to imagine that his clothes would somehow manifest him and the door would swing open, he would hop out with a big smile and say, “Here I’m am!”

But, of course, he never will

The Jacket

The Shirt

Homeward Bound

The Sculptor’s Shirt

Leather Jacket